


If Not for Kate

by lovefanfiction



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-17
Updated: 2010-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefanfiction/pseuds/lovefanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal didn't have to say anything that morning.  Peter saw him sitting on that bench inside the doors, fiddling with that fedora, and just knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Not for Kate

Neal didn't have to say anything that morning. Peter saw him sitting on that bench inside the doors, fiddling with that fedora, and just knew.

Peter sat down next to Neal without a word. The hat did a slow counterclockwise turn, flipped upside down, and turned a few degrees clockwise before settling in Neal's open palms. "You were right. About Kate," Neal stated calmly, but his eyes were overly bright.

Peter found himself at a loss for words. There were platitudes that would insult Neal, acknowledgements that could sound like bragging, and a hundred other insensitive things that Neal didn't need to hear right now. He couldn't think of anything to say to ease the hurt, distance Neal from the pain, or make any of it less immediate, less demanding. Neal was going to have to face this.

Peter leaned back against the wall, his hands still folded and his arm resting across his legs, watching the hat's halting movements, but also seeing out of the corner of his eyes that Neal was watching the hat too. Neal didn't say anything more, and really, what was there for him to say? Everything was written in his face: he felt foolish, he felt betrayed, and every time that feeling of betrayal surfaced, he felt ashamed that so many people he had to see and work with everyday, namely Peter, knew explicitly how foolish he'd been to trust Kate.

Peter watched the clock, determined that this was one of those moments where you don't say anything, you just be there. He was not going to tell Neal to cowboy up, he was not going to tell Neal what to do; he was going to in no way invalidate Neal's feelings. He was just going to let Neal sit and wallow. But six minutes and twenty-seven seconds passed and the only thing that moved on that bench was that damn hat. He began to wonder if Neal needed him to say something.

He looked at Neal. Neal was clearly even more devastated than the day he escaped from prison only to find an apartment, empty save for an empty bottle, and no Kate waiting for him. This time, she'd played him. She'd strung him along for money or whatever was in that damn music box. This time, it wasn't just that she was done waiting for Neal, this time it meant that she cared so little about Neal that she'd break him without a second thought.

The dark circles under Neal's eyes said this news was at least a night old. His hair had groves in it the shape of fingers, like Neal had run his hands through it repeatedly. Neal didn't flinch or shiver whenever the door less than twenty feet away opened and the cold blew inside.

It was clear Peter was going to have to say something or they were both going to be stuck on this bench for a really long time. It was a distinct possibility that Neal even needed him to say something. Something to distract him, absolve him of responsibility, give him the opportunity to justify everything he'd done, or something else, something Peter hadn't even thought of yet.

"So…" Peter said, hoping Neal would throw him a life preserver and offer up a hint as to what he needed.

"So she's gone," was all that Neal had to say, still to that damn hat.

"Yeah. Yeah, I figured. I'm sorry."

"No, no, you were right. You were right, and I was stupid, and-" Neal gritted his teeth and scowled at the hat and Peter found himself praying, 'No tears, no tears, please, please don't cry, not here, not in the FBI office, not with me here,' because Neal's eyes were shinning with moisture and Peter knew he couldn't handle tears, not in any way that wouldn't leave him embarrassed and stupid and Neal feeling worse.

"You were in love," he said succinctly, with no inflection, no judgment, in his voice.

Neal hung his head so low over that hat his bangs brushed the brim. "That's the worst part."

"It is what it is."

"I would've done anything for her."

"I know. That's what love is, Neal. She just wasn't what you thought she was."

"You saw it, though. That she didn't love me."

Peter barely refrained from telling Neal there were other girls out there. The whole 'there are other fish in the sea' speech didn't usually go over so well on the heels of heartbreak. He searched himself for some appropriately romanticized version and only came up with, "Neal, you're going to be fine."

Neal's only response was to hunch his shoulders. Peter dared to hope it was because someone had strolled in form outside and the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. Somehow, he didn't believe that.

"What happened?" he asks as softly as he can manage.

"You know pretty much everything."

"I meant what happened that you…" he carefully sidestepped the words love and Kate, "believe me now?"

"It doesn't matter." Peter waited Neal out, because clearly, it did. The hat made several aborted rotations. Neal grimaced. "She and Fowler are together, in this together, together together, and altogether getting too much fun out of yanking my chain." The hat got chucked down next to Neal on the bench. "I had a friend get a bug on Kate for me, since she clearly cou- _wouldn't_ tell me what was wrong. I know what Kate sounds like when she's tricking someone; she wasn't tricking Fowler when…" Neal trailed off, and Peter had to assume Neal overheard them talking about him and the music box, or worse, Neal overheard Kate telling Fowler she loved him. It meant pretty much the same thing, either way: Neal got hurt.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"There's no way you could've known."

"I could've listened to you."

"You were in love."

"Stop saying that, too."

"You were- still are, by the looks of it- in love, Neal, and that-"

"Stop, just stop. I screwed up, fell in love with the wrong person, fine, please stop rubbing it in my face."

"All right." They lapsed into silence again. They were both running late by now, but Peter was far from stupid enough to point that out.

"It's just… I was fine with breaking out of prison if Kate needed a flesh and blood man, not just a glass wall to talk to once a week. I was fine with breaking out of prison for her if it turned out she was in danger and needed me. But…" Neal pivoted on the seat and looked Peter dead in the eyes, "I got _four more years_ because I was an idiot. I broke out because she manipulated me into it. Because she needed me out in order to play games with me and get what she wanted. I…" Neal sighed and shook his head, and finally stood.

"Is it really so bad, being here?" Peter asked Neal's back.

"It's… it's fine, Peter, it's the way things worked out."

"By which you mean, it's better than the only other option available, so you'll take it."

"That's-" a smile flitted across Neal's face. "No. You're right. This is something good, no matter what. You're usually right. I should listen to you more often."

Peter raised his hands to the ceiling in a salute to a higher power. "Never thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth."

Neal let out a soft huff. "Let's get upstairs. We're late."

And as Neal strode towards the elevator, flipping his hat onto his head with unusually excessive flourishes, Peter knew everything was far from okay. That Neal still loved Kate and now hated her at the same time. That Neal was still hurt and betrayed and needing someone to trust. But he also knew that Neal had someone he could trust, if not someone who knew how to handle tears.

Kate would fade, when Neal could get to a place where he was willing to let that happen. Neal would heal. And maybe he'd come out the other end of this better for it; after all, as Neal had just pointed out, if it weren't for Kate, Neal wouldn't be on this side of the law right now, wouldn't have this chance to go straight, this four-year window for redemption.


End file.
